


Afterglow

by queenseamoose



Series: Saint, Sinner, Savior [6]
Category: Saints Row
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-29
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2019-03-10 23:30:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13512036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenseamoose/pseuds/queenseamoose
Summary: Abby's impulsivity gets the better of her, but she can't bring herself to regret it.





	Afterglow

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d shared a bed with someone. In general, it wasn’t something she was partial to—another body taking up space, limbs flailing, blankets being snatched away. But at the moment, she was surprised to find herself content.

In the dim glow of the apartment, she could just make out the rising and falling of Carlos’ chest, along with the soft sound of his breathing. Sighing to herself, she rolled onto her back, watching the reflections from the traffic outside play across the ceiling.

He’d called her as soon as he got the money, ecstatic, and she’d headed right over. He was practically chortling with glee as he stood hovering over the stacks of cash on his kitchen table, and as she watched him, she found herself beginning to smile. She remembered her first major payout with the Saints, after that Carnales storefront she and Troy had torn apart barely a week after she’d joined. She’d been so afraid and unsure at the time, still wondering if she’d made a huge mistake, but in that moment, holding _that_ much cash in her hands had sealed the deal for her. Carlos, on the other hand, had been so certain, right from the start—but as he stood grinning over his money, she saw that same gleam in his eye. And maybe that’d been why she kissed him.

That hadn’t been the _only_ reason, of course—the thought had been on her mind for a while now, but something had always stopped her: a memory, an interruption, a more pressing task at hand. But in the quiet of his kitchen with his joy a tangible presence filling the room, it was hard to think of little else. One thing she hadn’t counted on, however, was how enthusiastically he’d respond.

Sleeping with him had been an impulse, much like the bottles of wine she’d downed at Aisha’s the week before. She still winced at the memory at the headache she’d woken up with—and the look of frustration and disappointment on Aisha’s face. But unlike that prior lapse in judgment, she wasn’t so sure this one was a mistake.

As if on cue, he stirred in his sleep, rolling toward her. One of his arms reached out into the darkness to slip around her waist, and after a moment’s hesitation, she edged closer as well. What was the harm? It’d been a fun night. Maybe it’d be a little awkward in the morning, but this was Carlos. Someday they’d laugh about this. And so she curled against him, and allowed herself to finally drift off to sleep.


End file.
